Threnody for an Ordinary World
by Queenish
Summary: AU Snape is a jaded chemistry professor with a past and Hermione is a student in desperate need of help. Updated, Chapter 10.
1. Prologue: Denial

_**A/N: **__This is my rabid plot bunny of the week: an AU where there is no magic, Snape is a jaded chemistry professor and Hermione gets tangled in the perils of drug abuse. I attempted to make the British terminology and school system seem realistic, but if I failed in that respect, than please let me know! _

_I'd really like some feedback, good or bad, in order to assess the worth of this fic. Please review! _

_**Disclaimer: **The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended.__**

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_**Threnody for an Ordinary World**_

**by Queenish**

**Prologue: Denial**

It was the beginning of December and the frigid cold was almost too much to bear. Whorls of bluish snow whipped around the bare, twisted branches of the trees, making them creak and sway forebodingly. Professor Severus Snape pulled the lapel of his black overcoat closer to his throat to keep the cold away.

It was 6:30 in the evening and he was just making his way home. The towering brick walls of Hogwarts Academy cast heavy, dark shadows across his path. There was very little light to speak of, but Severus knew his way through the winding paths from years of interpreting them. So while the dark night didn't faze him, Severus instead was occupied by his heavy workload and the prospect of nothing but a frozen TV-dinner and a bottle of Scotch waiting for him at home.

Severus made it to his car and grudgingly wiped the gathering snow from his windshield with one gloved hand. He threw his leather briefcase in the seat next to him and turned the key three times before it started with a tired sputter. The drive was a practice in being cautious: the cumulating snow was a hazard, as well as the icy road and shoddy transmission of his slowly dilapidating car.

Once back at his rather unwelcoming flat, Severus deposited his briefcase and overcoat in the hall and proceeded to immediately pour himself a tumbler of Scotch.

He sat in his favorite armchair and watched the snow falling thick and fast outside his window. He wasn't at all looking forward to the drive back to school the next morning. Knowing a hangover would only increase his misery when he awoke, Severus refilled his tumbler anyway and retrieved a box of rather stale biscuits to quell his hunger pains. He simply couldn't muster the energy to do much else.

Drinking alone was never a good sign; he learned that unfortunate lesson from his father at the age of eight. But that did nothing to stop him, even if he knew it should. The warm buzz of alcohol was the only thing that seemed to preserve his sanity these days, as he sat in his flat, trying desperately not to succumb to the maudlin realm of self-pity.

He had learned that it was much easier to live in denial than actually admit that he was hopelessly and desperately alone.

&&&

Hermione Granger sat precariously in the back seat of the vibrating, dingy Ford Anglia, squashed between her boyfriend and his sister, who were already rather high. Hermione wished that she had stayed home, it _was _a Wednesday after all, and they all had school to attend the next day. But Ron and Ginny were remarkably convincing, especially if stoned-out-of-her-mind-Ginny claimed she would sleep with every bloke at the party if Hermione didn't come to look after her. Then, Ron leaned against the doorframe, causing his ginger fringe to fall over one eye. She found that to be hopelessly attractive so, against her better judgment, she agreed to go with them.

Now she was leaning against Ron, who was smoking a joint and blowing smoke out the window, while _his _best friend, Harry, was driving _his _father's car.

"Remind me again why Harry's driving and not you?" she asked Ron in irritation.

Before Ron could answer, Harry called from the driver's seat, "So he can get stoned without wasting any time, obviously." She saw him grin at her in the rear-view mirror.

"How do we get home, then?" came a voice from the front seat, Harry's girlfriend, Cho. "You do all plan on getting incredibly hammered, I presume?"

Harry faked a look of indignation. "_Me? _You expect _me _to get hammered?"

_"Obviously!" _Cho was laughing quite hysterically now.

"_I _won't be getting pissed, for record." Hermione said, raising her voice over the noise of Cho laughing and the jarring shudder of the Ford Anglia.

It was Ginny's turn to laugh now, rather shrilly as well. "Hermione, you'll at least get buzzed, I mean, c'mon…"

"I have school tomorrow, Gin, and you do too if I'm not very much mistaken."

"Yeah, well, I'll have a hangover, nothing new there. _You _should just loosen up." With that, she whipped out a tube of glittering green mascara and a hand mirror, thus proceeding to add more gunk to her already crusty lashes.

Hermione sighed, trying to ignore Cho's relatively annoying story about how she had to sneak out of her bedroom window in order to come along. Hermione glanced at Ron, his profile briefly elucidated in hazy white as he blew out another plume of smoke. She never appreciated when he was high _or _drunk, but she tolerated it, mostly because _everyone _she knew was doing _something._ Hermione got buzzed, she took a few hits every now and again… but being alone around a high-as-kite-Ron was like a regrettable-morning-after waiting to happen.

As for the party; it was at Dean's house, someone she knew and pretty much trusted. She'd have to look after Ginny though; while Harry and Cho snogged each other's brains out, Ginny would be trying to get as much attention as possible. She still fancied herself in love with her brother's best friend and was admittedly exceedingly dimwitted when she drank and smoked.

The Ford Anglia came to a sputtering halt in front of Dean Thomas's house. A loud pulse of music could be heard from the inside, as well as other tell-tale signs of a rowdy, teenage party. Hermione knew she was being uptight. It wasn't the first time her friends had accused her of such behavior. Maybe she could loosen up, if only a bit…

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**R/R**


	2. A Long Night

_**A/N: **This being the first official chapter, focusing on Hermione and her friends. It's much longer than the prologue, but hopefully not too long._

_Big thanks to Deannit, my dear reviewer. :)_

_**Warnings: **Though this should have gone in the prologue too, I'll just stick it here. This fic contains drug use, profanity, and sexual content (in latter chapters.) Read at you're own discretion!_

_**Disclaimer:** The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended.__ **

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**Chapter One: A Long Night**

Hermione, Ginny and Ron trudged through the thick snow gathering on the cobbled walkway, with Harry and Cho following closely behind. They quickly made their way to the front door of the small, brick house and entered without even knocking. Once inside the house, the group stamped collectively on the doormat to dislodge snow from their shoes and removed their coats and scarves.

Ginny, who was wearing a poisonous green cocktail dress, shimmied as she removed her outer layers, undoubtedly hoping to ensnare the whole room's attention. It was a useful ploy; attracting other boys at the party while simultaneously making Harry obscenely uncomfortable. Indeed, Harry immediately seized Cho around the waist and steered her towards the center of the room, away from Ginny.

Hermione glared at Ginny, who was smirking. In that moment, Dean Thomas strode over to them, drawn toward the arrival of new guests.

"Hermione! Ginny! Christ, it's been dull here without you fine birds…" he grinned suggestively at Ginny, who didn't hesitate to flirt back.

"Well, looks like you didn't waste any time." Ron remarked, surveying the scene before him. The small living room was littered with an assortment of liquor bottles in varying states of fullness. Bowls of snack food were mostly empty and several home-made bongs were still letting off smoke on the coffee table. A group of familiar teenagers which Hermione knew from school were lounging on couches and easy-chairs, watching television, smoking pot or snogging each other fervently.

"Would you like some gin, Gin?" Dean asked suavely, pulling Ginny toward a table full of alcohol.

Ginny laughed sharply at the pun, gripping Dean's arm. "A gin n' tonic then, I guess. I'm already stoned, don't want to overdo it…" But Dean was pouring an excessive amount of gin and tonic in Ginny's glass. He was obviously quite drunk already; he stared openly at Ginny chest as he poured her drink, causing him to slosh some onto the floor.

Hermione turned away from the scene and sat next to Ron on a sinking plush couch. A blonde girl in Ginny's year was taking hits from a bong across from them. Her wide, silvery eyes grew even mistier as tendrils of grey smoke escaped her mouth.

"Mmm, this is good shit," the girl remarked lazily. "Not that home-grown garbage Dean used to have. This is some good, quality shit." She offered to bong to Ron, then stared avidly at Hermione.

"Do you want some?" she asked Hermione as Ron handed it back.

"Um, yeah, I guess." Hermione stuttered. "Just a bit."

Ron laughed throatily. "Always just a bit."

Hermione shot him an angry look and took several long hits from the blonde girl's bong. She coughed a little on first inhale, then her body remembered what it was doing.

"Thanks," Hermione said, handing the girl back her bong. "What's your name again? I'm really quite dreadful with names…"

"Luna," the girl answered. "Ya know, like the moon?" She laughed low and hazily. Hermione laughed too, feeling more relaxed already.

Harry had wandered over to where they were sitting, looking rather lost.

"Have seen Cho around? She went to the loo and then disappeared…" he glanced around the room, as though expecting her to sprout out of the carpet.

"Maybe she evaporated, or araparated, or disapparated…" Luna muttered, her speech slurred. She giggled and Harry smiled vaguely.

"Yeah, um, maybe you should lay off the weed a bit, you're sorta far gone." Luna only giggled again in response.

Hermione spoke up. "I haven't seen Cho, Harry, sorry. But speaking of not knowing where people are, have you seen Ginny?"

Harry shrugged.

"Do you wanna play Soul Calibur, Harry? Dean just got the new one and it's supposed to be really wicked…"

Harry and Ron settled down in front of Dean's Xbox and began virtually fighting each other furiously. Hermione sighed and glanced over at Luna, who had passed out where she was sitting. Hermione stared out the window closest to her, watching the snow falling sluggishly and feeling the heady buzz of pot in her system. For a moment, the whole world felt condensed to one spot on the window and one snowflake that crashed into earth. She felt her throat close up and felt lonely all of a sudden, like she was the only person in the world.

Then, thundering into her consciousness, there was a deafening howl, followed by a loud clatter. Ron had lost rather badly to Harry and was taking his anger out on the game controller. Harry was rolling on the floor laughing at Ron's outburst. Ron started laughing too and soon the both of them were gasping for breath.

"Ya know, ya know… it's sucha circle…" Ron exhaled breathlessly.

Harry burst out laughing again. "A circle? Christ, you are so stoned."

&&&

Hermione watched her friend and boyfriend collapse around each other and decided she didn't want to witness it any longer. She got up, made her way to the liquor table, and poured herself some wine. It was sour and quite unpleasant, but she gulped it down anyway. Another night, she would have stopped there, but she was feeling unusually reckless. She poured herself another large glass and began walking in an arbitrary direction.

Hermione took big gulps of the foul wine and let her mind slow down to a pleasant haze. She made her way down a random hallway lined in doors, keeping one hand on the wall to keep from falling over. Dimly, she heard a sound like someone crying coming from one of the rooms. Hermione pushed at the door, which swung open. It was guest bedroom, by the looks of it, a place where couples were prone to retire in order to get privacy. Indeed, there was a couple in there, but it took Hermione a few seconds to realize it was Ginny and Dean.

Ginny had both straps of her cocktail dress hanging off, so her black bra was exposed. Dean had both hands around her waist, but jumped back when he noticed Hermione had entered the room. Hermione examined her friend: Ginny's makeup was smeared and her fiery auburn hair was a tangled mess. She was gasping slightly and her eyes looked red from crying.

"Hermione!" Dean exclaimed, looking like a frightened rabbit. "I wasn't, we weren't… I wasn't hurting her!"

"No… no, he wasn't." Ginny confirmed, looking sharply at Hermione.

Hermione stared at the two of them, not knowing what to think. Her first instinct was to grab Dean by the neck and strangle him, but the alcohol and marijuana didn't agree with that, and neither did her logic. Ginny stood up and fixed her dress.

"Ok, let's go now." Ginny muttered, not looking at Dean or Hermione. Dean was now standing off to the side, looking extremely fretful.

"Um, Gin…" he started, but she cut him off.

"I said, let's go." she said sharply to Hermione and then left.

Hermione stared at Dean. "I really didn't…" he started again.

"I believe you." Hermione said softly. "Um, nice party." Then she turned around left the room.

She found Ginny in the living room, but before she could say anything, Hermione was distracted by the scene before her. Cho had finally materialized and her and Harry were engaged a vicious shouting match.

"I saw you, Cho, snogging that university bloke, don't try and lie…" Harry was yelling, pointing a finger threateningly at Cho.

"Me and Cedric are _just friends._ Christ Harry, are you gonna freak out every time I make a new _friend_?"

Harry's face was screwed up in anger. His speech was slurred and he was obviously quite drunk. Cho's face was turning pink and she kept looking around the room at all the people staring at them, visibly embarrassed.

Hermione strode forward and got between the two immediately.

"Hey! Let's calm down ok, you two can call a cab and continue this another time!"

Cho scoffed at her. "Um, I have my own ride." She huffed and walked away towards a handsome older boy who Hermione was reasonably sure was Cedric.

"WHORE!" Harry spat viciously at Cho. She turned around, gave him the finger and flounced out the door, followed closely by her university boy.

Harry watched the shut door with a kind of deflated frustration. Hermione saw Ron come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate, there are plenty of other fish…"

"Sod off!" Harry spat.

"Um, there's still the problem of us getting home." Hermione interjected. "None of us are in any shape to drive, and I think some of us really need to get home." She motioned toward Ginny, who was looking like some trashy stripper in her green dress, smudged makeup and mussed hair.

Harry and Ron glanced at her and then at each other. "Um, yes, good idea." Harry said shiftily, fishing in his pockets for his mobile. "I guess I'll call Sirius. He'll pick us up."

"What about my dad's car? Mum will kill me and Gin if we don't get it home…"

"He can tow it. Sirius still has that tow truck he used to run business with, remember? It'll be fine."

&&&

When Harry's godfather, Sirius, arrived he gave the group and once over and immediately let out a bark of laughter.

"Just like the old days," Sirius remarked almost longingly, fitting Ron's father's Ford Anglia on the back of his tow truck. "Getting drunk and staying out all night… used to be a time when I could do that and never get a hangover!"

"Right," Harry snorted. "Now you just get _drunker _to cure that hangover."

Sirius just grinned and ruffled Harry's dark hair.

With all four teenagers squashed together in the dingy cab of the old truck, Hermione was very reminiscent of the ride to the party, only with less heating and more nausea. Hermione listened dully as Sirius went on a long tangent about how, one night, he had drunk a dozen shots of tequila and ended up in a street fighting ring. Hermione knew the story had maybe a minor bit a truth, but that was it. Sirius was rather infamous for telling tall tales.

Hermione was mostly concerned for Ginny, who wasn't saying anything. She just stared out the window while Harry, Ron and Sirius joked and laughed. Hermione had a feeling Ginny had gotten in way over her head with Dean that night and it had brought up some unpleasant memories she had tried hard to forget. Hermione had heard about what happened to Ginny when she was eleven, but no one in her circle of family and friends liked to mention it. Some things were better left unsaid.

When she arrived at her house, it was 3:32 A.M. Hermione quietly tiptoed to her bedroom, careful to make as little noise as possible. She shed her smoky clothes and brushed her teeth fervently to rid her mouth of the bitter aftertaste of alcohol. She took three ibuprofen tablets and passed out, dreading the morning and the unavoidable hangover that came with it.

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_**A/N: **One line in particular ("it's sucha circle") was actually uttered by one of my friends when he was very high and playing a video game, though it wasn't Soul Calibur. :)_

**R/R**


	3. A Longer Morning

**_A/N: _**_...only not that long. I apologize for this chapter being so short, the next one will be longer, I promise! Going back to school has been hectic and tiring; I spent most of the day trying not to explode from tiredness whilst focusing on everything I need to focus on. You could say I felt a bit like Snape today, only much less hungover. :)_

_Cookies and love for my wonderful reviewers, Deannit and AmberTiger'sEye. :)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling and all the people who work with and for her, no infringement is intended_

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**Chapter Two: A Longer Morning**

Thursday morning dawned cold and bright. The snow lay thick and glittering on paths and walkways, waiting to shoveled. Severus noticed none of this; he woke to his alarm clock with an acute pounding in his temples. Upon getting up, he closed the curtains firmly to block out the excess of bright white which only increased the pain in his skull.

Two steaming mugs of coffee and a hot shower later, Severus felt more like a real human and thus, ready to face the world. He shoveled his driveway for a good fifteen minutes as he waited for his car heat up. The white, glimmering world was at complete odds with his mood, and therefore he felt exceedingly resentful. The car hummed away as it filled its interior with heat and Severus fought to keep his focus on the icy road. It was going to be a long morning.

&&&

His first class of the day was an unmitigated disaster. Neville Longbottom, the resident imbecile, broke two flasks and spilled an entire box of litmus strips over the floor during an experiment on pH. Flustered, the foolish boy had floundered under the weight of Severus's bad mood.

On top of that, it became abundantly clear that he wasn't the only person in the school who was hungover. He noticed several of his students had bleary gazes and obvious signs of pounding headaches. Most notably was Hermione Granger, who was usually a know-it-all show-off. This morning however, she mostly kept her bushy head down, with the exception of sneakily giving Longbottom instructions as he struggled to do his work. And to top it all off, half-way through class an evidently hungover Harry Potter waltzed through the door with his usual blatant disregard for rules.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, good of you to finally join us." Severus sneered.

Harry just gave him a dark look and dropped a slip of paper on his desk, then stalked off to sit next to his equally infuriating and hungover friends.

The note was a written excuse for his lateness, penned in the recognizable hand of Sirius Black. He crumpled the note in his fist, feeling anger course through his veins. Of the many people he held in complete disdain, Potter and Black were on the very top of the list.

Ever since Black's release from prison three years prior, Severus had lived in a state of constant anger and odium. He had always hated Black, from the time when they attended school together. It hadn't been hard to believe (for him anyway) that Black had had a psychotic break after the murder of two of his friends and gone a murderous rampage himself. For thirteen years, just the mention of Black's name had made people quiver in fear or twist their features in disgust. But when Peter Pettigrew, one of the people Black was supposed to have killed, was found alive in Albania, it was only a matter of time before he confessed to everything under the scrutiny of the FBI. It had been Pettigrew that rigged the bomb that decimated an entire street, killing twelve people, and then framing Black while faking his own death. It had also been Pettigrew who had betrayed the Potters, revealing their whereabouts to the infamous and brutal drug lord, Tom Riddle, more notoriously known as Voldemort. While the Potters and their infant son resided in Witness Protection, Pettigrew had tracked them down and then handed them to Voldemort.

And now Black was free. Everyone insisted on treating him like a tragic hero, despite the fact that it was _his _fault the Potters had to go into hiding in the first place. Black's involvement in drugs had put his family and friends in danger, and now he was being revered for his bravery? Sticking it out in Azkaban for thirteen years for a crime he didn't commit had apparently made Sirius Black morally superior to the rest of the world, and could therefore get away with anything. He hadn't been awarded custody of Harry at least, who already seemed to be following in his father and godfather's footsteps regardless. Harry, of course, found it necessary to use his unstable godfather for an excuse when he spent the whole night drinking.

Severus mulled this all over as he watched Potter sit down and whisper to his friends. Hermione Granger and one of the Weasley spawn listened to Potter's little diatribe, undoubtedly commenting on the miseries of his life. After a moment, Weasley laughed out loud and stifled the sound in his hand, causing his laugh to become an unpleasant snort. Granger only smirked, saving herself from seeming a fool. He thought he saw her glance over in his direction, but he couldn't be sure, due to the glare off her safety goggles.

By the end of the lesson, Longbottom had dropped one of the expensive digital pH meters, breaking the glass interior. Severus was fairly certain that the boy had started crying after he scampered from the classroom; Severus had been dangerously angry.

So after loosing the school more money in expensive supplies, taking an inadvertent waltz down memory lane and thus increasing his headache tenfold, Severus retired to his office for the free period, praising the universe that it came so early in the day. It would be a long time before he felt placid enough to teach.

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**R/R**


	4. Rapture

_**A/N:** This chapter is when I think the story really gets off. Hermione and Snape have some real interaction and things start to get out of hand. I hope you like it!_

_A wonderful thanks to my reviewers: Deannit, AmberTiger'sEye and Elie Rou._

_**WARNING:** Sexual content, drug use and language._

_**Disclaimer:** The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended._

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**Chapter Three: Rapture**

"_I understand the fascination_

_The dream that comes alive at night_

_But if you don't change your situation_

_Then you'll die."_

_- Placebo_

Friday night was slowly becoming a massive disappointment. Dean's parents had returned from their trip, so he was disinclined to have another rowdy party. Ron had been grounded. When he and Ginny had snuck into their house last Wednesday, Ron had decided to get a glass of water while Ginny tiptoed to her room. Their mother had heard the noise, yelled and screamed at him for nearly an hour and then refused to believe that Ginny had also been with him. Ginny had a curious way of making herself seem extremely innocent, especially when she wasn't at all. Harry had been rather depressed since his break with Cho, and therefore didn't make very lively company.

So come the weekend Harry, Hermione and Ginny had wandered aimlessly through the shopping district for a few hours. Now it was almost eight and they were sitting around in Sirius's flat, staring blankly at his small, staticy television set. Ginny was smoking a cigarette while Sirius lit up a joint.

"Does anyone want any?" he asked, once he had taken a hit.

Harry sighed heavily. "Naw, there's something depressing about getting pot from your godfather."

Sirius looked rather offended. "Well, if don't want weed, I do have other stuff."

Ginny perked up. "What kind of other stuff?"

Sirius looked around at the three teenagers, grinning widely. "You really wanna see?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed, suddenly very animated.

Sirius put down his joint and disappeared into his bedroom. Hermione glanced at the other two, feeling a bit nervous. Ginny eyed Hermione as she ground her cigarette into the ashtray.

"Oh, please. How bad can it be?"

Sirius returned within the minute, still smirking. He brought with him a small plastic baggy, filled with what looked like bright, turquoise pills.

He sat on the coffee table in front of the three teens and emptied the contents of the baggy into his outstretched hand. Everyone leaned forward to examine them. The tablets weren't any bigger than an aspirin, a vivid teal color, each one imprinted with the image of a butterfly.

"What is it?" Ginny questioned, picking up one of the tablets, looking fascinated.

"X." Sirius said, also taking a pill in his fingers.

"X?" Harry said, looking flummoxed. "Oh! You mean Ecstasy!"

"Ecstasy!" Hermione repeated. "Isn't that really dangerous?"

"The good outweighs the bad, chickadee." Sirius remarked. He grinned wolfishly and popped the pill in his mouth.

Harry reached over and picked up a pill of his own. Ginny was looking as though school had been cancelled indefinitely. She gave the pill one last scrutinizing look and swallowed it smoothly.

Sirius handed a pill to Hermione, who felt very uneasy. "I don't know… I've read all these terrible things… heart attacks, seizures, strokes, dehydration…"

Sirius laughed long and hard. "That's only if you take a shit load! You're only taking one dose, no one ever dropped dead from just one dose!"

Harry was also laughing. "Hermione, always reading up on everything…"

"I like to be informed!" She stated in her defense.

Sirius quickly sobered and gave her a sincere look. "Hermione, one little pill won't hurt you. And the effects will blow your mind, seriously, it's a thousand times better than the best pot you've ever smoked…"

"How long does it take to start?" Ginny said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Within the hour." Sirius said. He looked at Hermione again. "We're all doing it…" He gave Harry a look. He promptly swallowed the pill.

Hermione looked around at her friends' excited faces. She inspected the pill in her hand. It did look rather innocuous; the vibrant color and butterfly insignia reminded her of sweets. Just one pill. What could be the harm?

Giving in, Hermione swallowed the pill dry, like the rest. It went down like an aspirin and settled in her stomach. Sirius laughed and clapped her on the back.

"That's my girl! Let the party begin!"

Ginny was already, quite fervently, jumping around the small room. Harry and Sirius looked very excited. Hermione could feel her heart speeding up. Was it the Ecstasy or was she just nervous?

The four stood around the flat, feeling more and more lively as the minutes passed by. Slowly, without her really noticing, Hermione felt her anxieties melt away. Her heart was pounding heavily and her veins coursed with energy. Ginny, Harry and Sirius suddenly felt like her closest friends in the world, and Hermione felt like a superhero; filled with energy and confidence. It was like floating through the clouds, and the clouds were bright with electricity and magic.

An hour or two passed by, and the group began feeling exceedingly restless. They all grabbed their coats and ventured out into the cold, December air. But once outside, it felt more like spring than winter. Hermione took off her coat and scarf, her body hot and sweating. Sirius's flat was only a short walk away from the local park, so the group ventured in that direction. Ginny and Harry ran ahead, whooping and crying out gleefully into the cold air.

The park was covered in glittering snow and the lampposts cast pools of bright, yellow light across the paths. Hermione ran and jumped through the snow banks, feeling like a child again. The soothing coldness of the snowflakes felt amazing as they melted on her skin. In a matter of minutes, the four had started throwing snowballs at each other.

With the continuous well of energy coursing through her, Hermione felt like a goddess, a queen, the ruler of the world. She fell to her knees in the snow, not caring that cold water was seeping through her jeans. Hermione was suddenly fascinated by the glittering snow. She saw iridescent glimmers flick through the clean white and each, shimmering flake was like a glowing diamond, alight with inner fire. How could something so cold look so scorching?

Hermione heard her name being called. She looked up and saw Sirius running toward her. She couldn't see Harry or Ginny anywhere. Sirius fell in the snow beside her, his breath freezing in the air like giant puffs of smoke.

"Where are the others?" Hermione asked, picking up handfuls of snow and letting it fall through her fingers.

Sirius shrugged. "They went off somewhere. I think Harry's on the rebound, if you know what I mean."

"Do you think they'd do anything?" Hermione asked. Usually, it felt awkward talking to Sirius about relationships and such, but now it felt entirely natural.

"Probably." He said, seeming unconcerned. "X promotes feelings of closeness with others, did you know that?"

Hermione nodded. "I read about the effects of amphetamines and hallucinogens for a health project a few years ago."

"And you still remember everything?" Sirius laughed, throwing his head back. "You are brilliant."

Hermione laughed too. It really was exhilarating.

Sirius picked up a clump of snow and threw it at her. Hermione laughed again and tossed a cluster back at his face. They went back and forth like this until both of them were rolling on the ground, stuffing snow in each other's faces. Sirius was on top of her and Hermione suddenly didn't feel as good. Sirius was holding onto her shoulders and pressing very close to her. Hermione felt beads of sweat break out all over her body, even in the frigid weather. Her jaw was clenching and her teeth hurt. She was sure her heart was going to burst.

"Hermione…" Sirius whispered and he leaned in even closer. Hermione felt a blistering heat when he touched her face, and it didn't feel good. She felt like he was pressing a burning brand into her skin. She shut her eyes.

For a few minutes, Sirius ran his hands over her body and Hermione struggled to push him off. He was pressing his mouth to her face and neck, his hands suddenly under her shirt. Hermione twisted around until she was sprawled in the snow, but free of Sirius's grasp. He looked at her, confused.

"Hermione…"

She got to her feet and tried walking away. Her legs felt thick and uncooperative. Sirius stood as well and went to grab her arm.

Hermione shrugged her shoulder to break his hold. "I think I should go somewhere else…" She was shivering, but not with cold. Adrenalin was making her head hurt.

Hermione kept walking, not sure where she was going. Sirius didn't follow; Hermione didn't even look back. Presently, she found herself standing on a snow-free sidewalk. She had reached the edge of the park. Not recognizing where she was, Hermione starting walking in an arbitrary direction. Now she could feel the massive amounts of energy die away. She could feel her anxiety ebbing back into her mind, accompanied by a great confusion. She glanced around at the unfamiliar buildings, her apprehension mounting. Not paying attention to where she was walking, she suddenly found herself knocked off her feet by a looming, dark shape.

Confused, Hermione squinted up at the object she had run into. She heard a voice emanating from it, "You want to watch where you're…" Then the voice stopped with a sharp gasp. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione stared up the shape, her fretfulness escalating. The shape moved its head, casting its face into the light. The sharp features and large nose were awfully familiar…

"Professor Snape?" Hermione whispered in surprise. "W-what are you doing here?"

Snape bristled. "The more pertinent question, I think, is what you are doing, Miss Granger, wandering around, alone, at one in the morning?"

Hermione didn't answer. She wasn't sure how to answer.

Snape leaned down to look at her. He took in her disheveled hair, lack of coat and obvious quaking.

"Miss Ganger, are you quite alright?" There was an edge in his voice that suggested concern.

Hermione felt overcome by the violence of her shivering. Her jaw clenched, making her teeth grind together. The sweat which coated her skin felt like a layer of ice.

"I… I… w-was out with, ah…" Hermione struggled to speak, for her jaw seemed wired shut.

"Did you take something?" Snape asked sharply, his dark eyes flashing in the weak light.

"E-Ecstasy."

Snape nodded stiffly. "How much?"

"O-one."

Snape wasn't looking at her; he was staring off to the side very intently, obviously thinking hard. Then he reached down and took Hermione by the arm, pulling her up to a standing position.

"I'm taking you to a hospital." he stated.

Hermione felt a flare of panic. "N-no! My p-parents will kill me!"

Snape hesitated for a moment, examining her. "Fine, then I'll bring to my flat until you feel better. Then I'm bringing you home."

With that, Snape unbuttoned his overcoat and threw it over her shoulders. He steered her in the direction of his car and practically stuffed her in the back seat. All his movements were abrupt and filled with anger.

Hermione curled up under the overcoat, feeling physically ill. She vividly remembered Sirius's hands under her shirt and the panic she felt as she struggled. She wanted to throw up. The car started only after several tries and its vibrating did nothing to sooth her.

"I assume that Potter was with you?" Snape said harshly from the front seat.

Hermione mumbled her concurrence. "And Ginny. And Sirius."

Snape snorted. "Black, of course. I presume he provided the illicit drugs for you?"

Hermione murmured again.

She didn't know how long the ride took, for she began to drift in and out of consciousness. Snape said nothing else the whole time, but she thought she heard him mumble angrily under his breath.

In due course, the car came to a shuddering halt. Snape lugged Hermione's limp body from the car and half carried her up three flights of stairs to his flat. She felt more awake by the time he deposited her on the couch. In the warm light and relative heat, she felt slightly better.

Snape strode over to his kitchenette and placed a half-bottle of Scotch on the counter, then pulled out a glass to fill.

"What were you thinking, you stupid girl? Ecstasy? From Black, of all people? Have you completely lost your mind?" His voice was filled with more venom that Hermione thought possible.

"How d'you know Sirius?"

"Oh, we go way back. Quite the character, don't you think?"

Hermione looked at him. His gaze was filled with a scorching anger.

"I-it was just one! Everyone else took it…"

"Ecstasy is not marijuana! You could die in all sorts of horrible ways, with just one bloody dose! You could have been robbed, stabbed, or even raped, for Christ's sake!"

Hermione cried out, his anger seemed to seep into her and fill her up with shame.

"I'm sorry, ok! Why d'you care so much what I do?"

"Because I refuse to watch my own students take the same path that I took!" He was so angry, a vein in his temple was throbbing madly and he looked quite deranged.

Hermione didn't speak, she didn't even cry. She fell down on the couch, not wanting to look at him. She lay there shaking for almost fifteen minutes. Then, she looked up and saw Snape still standing at the counter, his face twisted in rage.

"Bring me home now. I want to go home."

Snape looked at her sharply.

"I'll bring you home. I won't inform your parents, although I am inclined to. I will see you on Monday and act as though this never happened. But in return, Miss Granger, you will never again accept drugs of any kind from Sirius Black!"

Hermione stared into his hard, black eyes.

"Fine. Just bring me home."

She didn't care if she was lying, or ungrateful or disrespectful of a teacher. Though the thought would horrify her come morning, she wished the very worst death possible on Severus Snape, her very own professor. Because at that moment, no one else in the world could make her feel more ashamed of herself that he did.

**

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**

_**A/N:** Some common effects of Ecstasy: __increased heart rate, body temperature and blood pressure; __increased confidence; __jaw clenching, teeth grinding; __feelings of well-being; __nausea; __feelings of closeness to others, hence the term 'love drug'; __anxiety; __loss of appetite; and __sweating._

**R/R**


	5. Lack of Taste

_**A/N: **I must apoligize for the long wait, it's been a very busy week. Since it is the weekend, you might expect the next update as soon as tomorrow, but who knows._

_To my dear reviewers: Deannit, AmberTiger'sEye, Elie Rou and Amy Napierkowski; thank you!_

_**Warnings: **Language, allusions to drug use and sexual references, for this chapter._

_**Disclaimer: **The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended._**

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**

**Chapter Four: Lack of Taste**

Saturday morning was a bleak one. Well, really, it was Saturday _afternoon, _as Hermione finally woke around two. Her body felt heavy and her brain felt stiff, like an unused muscle. It wasn't exactly like a hangover… but felt similar. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

Throwing the covers back grudgingly, Hermione pulled herself up. Her body ached and her head began pounding. As she groped her nightstand for her digital clock, Hermione distantly heard a high-pitched beeping sound, then her hand ran into a small, vibrating object. The contact made her jump. Feeling a bit foolish, Hermione picked up her mobile and saw that Ginny was calling her.

"Hermione!" she heard Ginny's voice shrilly from the other end. "Are you at home? I tried calling you about fifty times!"

"Yes, yes, I'm at home, I'm fine Ginny." Hermione muttered stiffly, falling back on her pillows.

"Christ! We didn't know where you wandered off to…"

"I just, uh, went for a walk I guess."

"How did you get home?"

"Um… I don't think you'd believe me if I told you…"

"Oh! Tell me right now!"

"Gin… ah… first you have to tell me where you and Harry went!"

Hermione heard gales of laughter coming from Ginny's end. Apparently, Ginny wasn't as hungover as Hermione was.

"We… ah…"

"Did you have sex?"

"No! Just, ah, everything else."

"Ginny!"

"It was mind blowing! The X made everything feel… amazing."

"Yeah… amazing."

"What did and Sirius do?"

"What? I… uh…"

"While me and Harry were… you know." Ginny didn't seem to notice anything amiss in Hermione voice.

"We just… threw snow at each other and then I went for a walk."

"Then how did you get home! You said you'd tell me!"

"Yeah, um, it was Snape."

"Excuse me? Didn't hear that right…"

"No, you did, I ran into _Professor Snape."_

Ginny let out a high, breathy laugh. "And _he _drove you home?"

"Yeah… he took me back to his flat first…"

"Holy shit, sounds like you had sex or something…"

"Ginny, that's vile! He just had me rest and then drove me home. He said he wouldn't even tell my parents about it."

"Christ, are you serious? I'd expect him to be really evil and phone the police…"

"He was planning on taking me to the ER, but I asked him not to… I dunno, Ginny, I was shaking like mad and grinding my teeth… I suppose he felt bad for me." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Hermione knew they were probably true. Snape had pitied her…

"Anyway," came Ginny's voice. "Harry said he could borrow his cousin's car and we could go somewhere…"

"Borrow? You mean steal?"

"No! Just… take without permission. He'll bring it back!"

"Right. Um, you can pick me up in an hour or so. I really feel like shit."

"That's life for you. Gotta get used to it."

"Well you have all the practice."

"See you in an hour!" The line went out with a click.

&&&

About an hour and a half later (Harry was chronically late) Hermione sat in the back seat of Harry's cousin's Lexus, showered, caffeinated, and full of toast, feeling much more alive. Ginny sat in the passenger seat, singing along with the radio. Ron was still grounded, though with increasing bitterness. After hearing from Harry about what they did the previous night, Ron was considering sneaking out to see them.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked over the beat of the radio.

"Sirius's." Harry called back.

Hermione felt her blood turn to ice. She'd convinced herself that Sirius's actions were just the effect of the drugs, but the thought of it still made her rather nauseous.

"He was in a bad state last night." Ginny remarked, turning down the radio. "Once we back at his flat he started drinking. How bad is that? Getting smashed while on Ecstasy?"

"Terrible." Hermione mumbled, her throat tightening.

Upon arriving at Sirius's flat, Harry and Ginny laced their hands together while standing on the sidewalk. Hermione eyed the couple, wondering how Ron would feel about this. But mostly she was edgy about seeing Sirius. How would he act? How would _she _act?

The elevator was out of order, so the threesome climbed two flights of stairs before reaching Sirius's level. In an alcove to the right of Sirius's door, they came upon the figure of a man standing next to the window. The man was wrapped in an old, fraying coat and a dingy scarf. The window was open and he was blowing smoke from a cigarette into the cold air. The three teens recognized him as their old teacher, Remus Lupin. He noticed them walking toward him and his tired face immediately broke into a wide smile.

"Harry, Ginny, Hermione! How wonderful to see you three!"

He flicked his cigarette out the window and shut it with a snap. He strode forward and gave each of them a welcoming hug.

"Are you here to see Sirius? He's still sleeping… bit of a long night, I'd say…"

"Yeah, we were there. Mostly." Ginny said.

Remus's smile faded slightly. "Really, well, come on in."

The four entered Sirius's flat and settled in the empty living room. The tattered couches groaned as they sat down.

Remus had been their history teacher, but only for one year. He suffered from an affliction that caused him to think he wasn't suitable for teaching children. Remus was bipolar, and although he was being treated with Lithium, he was prone to rapid, and sometimes violent, changes in mood. Thus, he resigned after only one year of teaching. Remus was a naturally gentle man, but his affliction was debilitating. It was difficult for him to hold a steady job, and therefore sometimes couldn't afford his much needed medication to keep his mood in check. It was a vicious cycle.

Today, however, Remus seemed balanced and happy. In Sirius's trashy flat, the teens and their much beloved ex-teacher chatted amiably about this and that. Ginny's hand kept inching toward Harry's as the conversation wore on. Hermione felt much more relaxed that she didn't have to face Sirius yet, as the thought made her skin crawl.

But the talk didn't stay innocent for long. Gradually, it shifted to the night before.

"Sirius phoned around three in the morning, saying that people were stalking him outside his window." Remus said with a sigh. "When I got here, he said his mother was telling him what an awful son he is. You know his mother's been dead for years, right?"

Ginny didn't seem as keen on Ecstasy as she was last night. "X can really fuck with you, I guess."

"Ginny, language!" said Remus.

"Sorry." she mumbled.

"But you're right. Sirius hasn't really gotten that message yet, or at least he won't admit to it."

The four sat in a tense silence. Then Hermione spoke up.

"Did you, I mean you and Sirius, ah, know Snape when you were younger?"

Remus looked rather startled. "What gives you that idea?"

"Because she talked to him last night!" Ginny exclaimed. "He drove her home, too!"

Remus glanced at Hermione in surprise. "Really?"

Hermione felt her face turn red. "Yeah, I sorta ran into him."

"What did he say about Sirius and I?" Remus asked.

"Uh, nothing about you, but he said that he and Sirius go way back. He seemed to know about the drugs, too."

Remus was nodding. "Yes, I suppose he would. Sirius, Snape and I all went to school together. Your parents too, Harry. They didn't get along, Sirius and Snape I mean."

"He… he said that he didn't want one of his students taking the same path that he took." said Hermione in a small voice.

Remus nodded darkly. "Snape was a member of the drug underground, I know that much. What he did and how he got out is the mystery though. It was before Voldemort was arrested though, before his empire came crashing down."

"Before my parents died." Harry muttered. His green eyes had gone hard behind his glasses. Everyone in the room was very quiet. Hermione could hear the clock ticking.

"Are you hungry, Remus?" Ginny suddenly said. "We could go out to eat. Harry has his cousin's Lexus."

Remus looked between the two of them, his eyes twinkling again. "Your cousin's brand new Lexus? Harry, is he aware of this?"

"Ah, sure." Harry said, not convincingly. "Let's go, shall we?"

&&&

For Snape, the day was much the same as every other Saturday. He spent the morning grading papers, red ink marring each sheet excessively. It was always very satisfying, exposing every tremendous defacement of the English language with a sweep of red pen.

After that, Snape took his customary walk through the park. The day was overcast and cold, but there was no breeze and his brisk pace kept his blood moving. He noticed that the snowdrifts by the path were covered with what looked like the imprints of bodies rolling through the snow. Sourly, he remembered Miss Granger and her adventures.

The thought of her plagued him through the whole morning. It really was inexcusable… running around the city, high on Ecstasy, with Black the Drugged-Up Tragic Hero. He had always pegged Miss Granger as the sensible one; she was probably the most intelligent student in her year, possibly in the whole school. That fact alone made it particularly disturbing that she associated with people like Black and Potter.

Snape sat down on a park bench, looking across the dreary scenery before him. Perhaps he should have informed her parents, or even phoned the police… scare some sense into the silly girl. But the thought of authority had made him even more indignant when he was her age.

Why did the past insist on repeating itself? Couldn't things just stay buried? Why couldn't Black just have been _guilty?_

But if Snape was really honest with himself, it wouldn't really have changed anything. Most of all, he was appalled at his own tastelessness. He had yelled at the girl, thus exposing his own foolish weaknesses. Keeping his emotions in check had always been something he prided himself on. And now look what he had done…

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**R/R**


	6. Downhill

_**A/N: **It's been a long time, over a year I think, since I last update. looks sheepish I'll try very hard not to fall behind again, it's ok to scold me. _

_**Warnings: **Language, allusions to drug use and sexual references._

_**Disclaimer: **The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Downhill**

In retrospect, Hermione supposed she shouldn't have screamed so loud.

At the time, of course, it seemed the right course of action because nothing could express her fury more succinctly than an echoing bellow such as that. That Ron Weasely had the nerve to break up with her in the lunchroom, of all places, was really too much to bare. And to top it all off, he was now going to date that tart Lavender Brown!

It was infuriating. She starting screaming at him, drawing the attention of her fellow classmates as they tried to enjoy their meager meals. All those eyes and the volume of her voice made Ron burn with embarrassment as he tried to calm her. Perhaps he had thought he could keep it quiet for a few days before he started publicly dating Lavender. Now the whole school was aware of his betrayal.

Harry had attempted to intervene, but it was all to clear he was taking Ron's side. Hermione gave him a piece of her mind too.

After she had stalked off in a towering rage, Hermione collapsed in the girl's locker room and started crying. Ginny found her there only a short while later.

Ginny instantly put her arm around her sobbing friend's shoulders.

"Its alright, Hermione, he's a prick. Honestly, worse than Percy sometimes..."

Ginny's feeble attempt at humor didn't help much, however, and Hermione only sniffled.

"Its not like I wanted to marry him or anything, he was going on about it getting too serious, how he only wanted to take it slow..."

Ginny sighed. "He's being boyish. All boys are pricks."

"What about Harry?" Hermione mumbled.

"He's no exception. Look how he reacted today! And he was even trying to get me on his side, I mean honestly. And just the other day he blew me off for football practice. It's all boys care about. Sports and tits."

"Ginny!" Hermione cried, but she was grinning a little.

After a spell she said, "Do think thats why, then? Because I didn't put out?"

Ginny looked startled. "Really? You guys never had sex?"

Hermione shook her head. "Only groping. I mean, I didn't feel ready, even though he was always hinting at it..."

Ginny was nodding. "Despite how disturbing it is to her about my brother's sex life, or lack thereof I guess, it makes sense. Its happened plenty of times before anyway, guys breaking up with girls because they won't go to bed, its despicable."

Hermione looked severely depressed.

"But if that's the reason he's not worth it anyway!" Ginny insisted.

Hermione sighed. "Sure, I could tell myself that, but it won't make it hurt any less."

Ginny stroked her arm sympathetically. "Well, clearly, but its a start. Besides, you guys had been friends for ages before you started dating, maybe you could be friends again."

"Maybe. I wasn't in love with him or anything."

Ginny grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and handed them to Hermione so her could dry her face.

"And on the bright side, I live with him, so I can torture him for you and also tell lots of embarrassing stories about him to everyone I know." Ginny was grinning.

Hermione smiled too, wiping her eyes; no matter how different they were, she was glad to have Ginny as a friend.

&&&

It was a Friday so Ginny and Hermione decided to walk to Ginny's house after school. The snow still lay on the ground, but the sidewalks were clear and it wasn't a long walk.

"Ron will certainly go to Harry's house so we don't have to worry about that." Ginny remarked as she tightened her scarf. "Bloody hell, is it cold."

But the familiar silhouette of The Burrow was steadily rising before them, so the girls picked up their pace.

Once inside the warm, cozy home, the two girls instantly disappeared into Ginny's room, ignoring Mrs. Weasely's shrill call asking them how school was. Ginny stuck a Michelle Branch CD in her player and flopped down on her bed. Hermione sat beside her, still feeling very sad.

Ginny eyed her, obviously thinking of the best way to cheer up her friend.

"I have a great idea!" she said suddenly, grinning madly.

Hermione looked apprehensive. Ginny's great ideas could often be disastrous.

"We should totally crash Malfoy's party!"

Hermione laughed. "You're joking, right? Why would we ever even want to go to that toerag's snobby party?"

"Because it will be fun," Ginny insisted as if she were explaining that the sky was blue. But Hermione wasn't buying it. She raised her eyebrow skeptically as Ginny launched herself in the direction of her closet. "Besides, he won't even that we're there, there'll be so many people." Ginny had started pulling out dresses, skirts and blouses in increasing gaudy shades.

Hermione groaned. "You're not going to let me say no, are you?"

"Absolutely not. Now, what'd you think?" Ginny was holding up a silver sequined top paired with a miniscule black skirt and surveying the effect in her floor-length mirror.

"Maybe if you were a prostitute." Hermione said lightly and dodged the outfit that came flying at in her in response. "Besides, what will I wear?"

"You can borrow something of mine! Everything you have is boring anyway..." Ginny continued to riffle through her pile of clothes.

"Gee thanks. We're not even the same size!"

"Close enough," Ginny insisted, and from the depths of her clothes pile she extracted a pale blue halter top with beading along the bust line. "This'll fit, I swear, it was always too big for me it the tit area."

"Wow, is that a compliment?" Hermione responded dryly, but held the top up herself in mirror regardless.

"Maybe underneath something. For Christ's sake, its December!"

"Whatever. You can wear this skirt too, and these tights, that would look nice." Ginny herself had chosen a sparkling red tube top and the black mini skirt from before.

"Very festive," Hermione said. "But you'll freeze to death."

Ginny only shrugged. "Now try it on! I want to see it on you. Go ahead and use the bathroom."

Once alone, Hermione struggled into the blue top which actually fit her quite nicely. It was a little tight around the waist and exposed a bit of her midriff, but if she wore her sweater with only a few buttons fastened, one could hardly notice. The skirt Ginny had chosen wasn't too short and the black tights were reasonably thick. Looking in the mirror, Hermione thought she actually looked nice.

She emerged to find Ginny dressed as well and noticed with a sigh that a pair of black fishnets had been added to the ensemble.

"Mmm, classy. Like a genuine stripper."

But Ginny grinned at her. "You look amazing, by the way. Wear that shirt around Ron, he'll be sorry he dumped you."

Hermione didn't respond; she didn't want to think about Ron right now.

"So how are we getting there?" Hermione remarked causally as Ginny applied a trifle too much eyeshadow.

"Seamus told me earlier he was thinking about crashing. I'll give him a ring, I'm sure he'd give us a ride."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond with her compliance when Ginny's mobile started ringing.

Ginny glanced at it with a frown. "It's Harry." She flicked it open and said with an air of contempt, "Hello?"

Hermione couldn't hear what Harry was saying, but she could bet that he was attempting a peace offering. Ginny wasn't letting him off easy.

"No I don't want to hang out you and Ron... Why do you think?... Honestly Harry, you were both such pricks today... I don't care what Sirius has planned... Well you can shove it, me and Hermione are having our own fun, we don't need you, Goodbye!"

She triumphantly clicked her mobile shut and grinned at Hermione.

"Don't you think that was a bit harsh?" Hermione said.

"He'll get over it. Besides they were just going to hang out at Sirius's flat and do nothing, just like always. I think I'll pass." Ginny huffed as she began dialing Seamus's number.

Hermione agreed silently. It had been just over a week since the disastrous episode in the park and she had successfully avoided Sirius ever since. It would probably get suspicious eventually, but she just couldn't face him yet. The memory still made her want to die of shame and now with Ron breaking up her, she was really feeling on edge. The more she thought about it, partying her troubles away sounded like a pleasing, if not very wise, idea. Even if that rich sod Malfoy was hosting the party.

* * *

**R/R **

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	7. Toxic

_**A/N: **Again, I failed to update as promised. I'm a very unfaithful writer. This chapter is rather long, I think, I hope that makes it a little better. :)  
_

_**Warnings: **Some sexuality and drunkenness._

_**Disclaimer: **The source material belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et. al. No copyright infringement is intended._

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**Chapter 6: Toxic**

Unfortunately, when Seamus arrived a half-hour later, he wasn't alone. He'd brought two other girls from Hermione's year, Parvati and her twin sister Padma. Both were good friends with Lavender Brown.

Ginny tactfully took the place in the back with the twins while Hermione sat up front with Seamus. It was a rather awkward car ride regardless as the two sisters talked to no one but themselves and Seamus kept casting nervous glances in Hermione's directions as they drove. He had of course witnessed the scene in the cafeteria.

But Hermione refused to feel embarrassed and just looked out the window the whole time. As the pulled onto Malfoy's street, Hermione noted the lines of cars with apprehension. Malfoy was rich and exceedingly popular. It looked as though the whole school had shown up, most of them probably without an invite.

Due to the number of cars, they had to park outside the driveway on the street. And it was quite a long driveway. The pulse of music grew louder as they marched up the drive. Malfoy Manor was huge, bigger than Hermione expected, and people were everywhere, even spilling out on the lawn.

They passed the garish marble columns and entered sweeping foyer. There was a room off to their right which held a mountain of coats and they deposited their own. The twins grabbed Seamus by the arm and scurried away immediately.

"Lovely, those two are." Ginny huffed at Hermione's side.

"I suppose they're trying to be good friends to Lavender. They've always been perfectly nice to me before."

"Don't defend them!"

"Well lets just be grateful Lavender didn't show up herself."

"Good point, Let's get something to drink."

Ginny almost instantly sniffed out the alcohol table which was a veritable banquet of intoxicating substances.

"This is amazing!" Ginny exclaimed, eagerly examining the bottles. "And look, a _ballroom!"_

Indeed the ballroom was the source of the pulsing music. It was dim and filled with colored lights and dozens of grinding teenagers.

"Let's dance!" Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm, grinning madly.

But Hermione pulled back. "You go, I'll join you later."

Ginny looked skeptical.

"I _promise._"

"Fine! You better keep that promise!" and she skipped off.

Hermione had no real intention of doing anything of the sort, but she figured Ginny would be occupied enough to not notice. Hermione chose what appeared to be a very expensive brand of beer and began drinking. She milled around, not talking to anyone, admiring the art the walls and wondering if it was real. By her third beer, she was feeling very warm so she too off her sweater and put it on the chair, hoping to find it later. She was feeling light-headed and had stopped caring how revealing her top was.

After the fourth, Hermione switched to tequila which Terry Boot was serving to a crowd with gusto. He seemed surprised to see her and stared openly at her cleavage as her poured her shot. Hermione felt oddly flattered.

_"Wow, I really am drunk. Probably drunker than I've ever been!"_

Hermione stumbled a bit, smiling to herself and didn't even realize as she bumped into Draco Malfoy himself.

"Hey, watch where your... _Granger?!_"

"Hi! Great party!" she toasted him with her shot and stumbled off. He seemed to shocked to do anything but stare after her.

Giggling to herself, Hermione wandered aimlessly, not caring where she went in this massive house. She was quite surprised to find herself in a huge room with a domed glass ceiling and large circular pool. People were swimming with or without their clothes and Hermione was considering joining them until she spotted a sunken hot-tub occupied by several teens.

Hermione nearly tripped over on her face as she tried to remove her skirt and tights as she walked over to join them. It wasn't until she was wrestling with her constricting halter-top that she realized the people in the hot-tub were Seamus, Terry Boot and the Patil twins. They were all staring at her with open mouths.

Hermione felt elated however as she sunk in beside them in only her bra and knickers. Terry was grinning. Seamus, who was between the twins, looked uncomfortable. The twins were giving her an identical set of sour looks.

"Hermione!" Seamus exclaimed, "what the bloody hell has gotten in to you?"

"Oh, just a little C2H5OH." she replied, grinning.

"What?"

"Alcohol!"

Hermione started laughing, but her head was spinning so much she had to stop. She stared blearily at the bubbling surface of the water trying to get her bearings. She suddenly felt physically ill and fell sideways into Terry.

"Are going to be to sick? Shit, Hermione!"

He lifted her head and turned it away from him just as she vomited onto the tiled floor. Several people standing nearby jumped away in disgust and started laughing. Hermione couldn't care less; she felt terrible. She rested her burning head on the cold tiles feeling too weak to move. Someone suddenly lifted from under her arms and pulled into a standing position. The whole room spun violently and then turned black.

&

When Hermione awoke, she was in a tub of cold water. She was still in only her underwear and she felt like a set of bricks were rattling around inside her skull. She looked around trying to get her bearings. She was in the marble bathtub of a marble bathroom and someone was pressing a cold washcloth to her forehead. She didn't recognize him but he looked much older. She noted with a sense of horror that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Hey, it's ok... Shhh." he mumbled stroking her face with the washcloth. Then he climbed in the tub with her.

"No, get off!" Hermione screamed, trying to push him away, but her arms felt like lead.

He got on top of her and put his hand inside her bra.

"Stop!"

Hermione was sobbing now but he didn't pay any attention. He reached down and unbuttoned his fly. Hermione screamed and regained her mental facilities enough to knee him in the crotch. He gasped in pain and struck almost instantly on her cheek with the back of his hand. But he was in enough pain for Hermione to push him off her and stumbled out of the tub, sloshing water all over the floor.

The man was still doubled over in the tub and with immense relief, Hermione spotted her clothes in a tangled mess on the floor. She immediately grabbed them and bolted from the room.

She ran down a blessedly empty hallway and found a deserted room where she put her clothes on despite being dripping wet. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Hermione sat on the floor and sobbed silently. What the hell happened? She was supposed to have a good time tonight! Instead she was humiliated, drunk, sexually assaulted (again) and still felt extremely sick.

For the next few minutes she sat there, wondering what to do. Without having any other options, Hermione got unsteadily to her feet and preceded cautiously into the hall. She didn't see her attacker anywhere and was able to find her way back into the foyer. There were dozens of people there but none of them paid her any mind as she made her way into the coat room. After digging her mobile out of her coat pocket her tried calling Ginny but only got her voicemail.

Miserably, Hermione thought about finding someone she knew and asking them for a ride home. But on second thought they'd probably be as drunk, if not drunker, than her and subjecting herself to more humiliation was not even remotely appealing. Neither were the prospects of calling Harry, Ron or Sirius.

Eventually Hermione decided to just walk home. She was dead tired but the cold air would be bracing, and it wasn't really that far, the more she thought about it.

Hermione pulled on her coat and walked down the long drive going over the night's events over and over in her head. In her half-delirium they seemed a long way away, like it was all a movie she'd seen and hadn't experienced. She stared down at her shoes, clunking on the frozen sidewalk with each step. It was much colder than she had anticipated and her wet clothes only made it worse.

She'd been walking for what seemed like hours when she realized with a thrill of horror that she had no idea where she was. Hermione sped up her steps and looked around the unfamiliar buildings with mounting panic. She couldn't feel her fingers. Ice crystals had formed in her damp hair. Her limbs were so heavy and her feet so tired that she wanted to lie down on the sidewalk and go to sleep but she kept walking.

Then, Hermione stopped. The lamppost ahead of her looked very familiar. She looked around to see if she recognized anything else and realized with a start that she'd seen that lamppost as Snape carried out of her car and into his flat. She was outside Snape's home.

What are the chances, she thought to herself. To end up here again severely intoxicated was eerily similar to her last encounter. Dare she ask for his help again?

Hermione felt ready to keel over and decided that this was her only hope so entered the building and tried to find Snape's name on the row of buzzers. It took a long time, Hermione had a lot of trouble focusing. Eventually she found it and hesitated for a moment before ringing. There was no answer for several moments. Hermione leaned against the wall, praying he would answer and beyond that even let her in. The she heard his clipped tones crackle over the intercom.

"Who is this?" He sounded extremely annoyed. Murderously annoyed.

"Hi, professor," she said in a very small voice. "It's Hermione Granger."

She was greeted with only silence.

Then, "I'll be right down."

Hermione sunk to the floor, confused over his not asking to explain herself. She supposed he'd get to that.

She was so tired that she'd started dozing off and was woken abruptly and the door was flung open. Snape stood there, framed in the yellow-orange glow of the interior lights, his face twisted in an unpleasant scowl.

"Miss Granger. Explain yourself."

He stepped through the door and towered menacingly over her. Hermione attempted to stand but lost her balance and fell against the wall.

"I... I... tried walking home. Got lost." she was embarrassed to note the slur in her words.

"Where, exactly, were you?"

"Malfoy's. He had a party."

Snape sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Quite a party too, it seems. What you take?"

"Only alcohol, I swear!"

He looked skeptical but said nothing.

"I didn't break my promise you know. I haven't even seen Sirius since that night."

His silence stretched on.

"Please? C-could you just drive me home?"

He sighed again but this time he held out his hand for her, pulling her to her feet. Hermione wavered and fell into him. He caught her by the shoulders and then to her utter surprise wrapped his arm around her back as his other arm hooked under her bent knees and picked her up fully.

"You'll sleep it off first, I suppose."

Snape talked to her almost the whole way up the stairs but she wasn't really listening, her mind was too fuzzy. She dozed against his chest and only noted dimly that since her tights had been lost, Snape's hand was wrapped around her bare legs.

Inside his warm flat, Snape set Hermione on the couch and began removing her shoes.

"I do hope you realize how incredibly inappropriate this is?"

Hermione only mumbled in response. Then she realized something that made her perk up.

"Why aren't you yelling at me? I mean, why aren't you more mad, like last time?"

He looked her solemnly in eyes.

"Because I realized how tactless I had been. Yelling at you at a time like this won't do you any good."

Hermione was deeply surprised but she tried to hide it by fiddling with her coat. It was getting difficult to focus on the seemingly intricate buttons. Her fingers were still trembling. Snape cautiously reached out and unbuttoned it for her. He looked away, looking almost embarrassed.

Embarrassed! Snape? Hermione almost laughed out loud. But she was too tired. She lay back on the lumpy couch and could feel herself drifting off. A blanket was pulled over her as she finally descended into sleep.

* * *

**R/R**


	8. Tensity

_**AN: **Its been a while, I know. But that's how my mind works, sorry. I hope you like it!_

_**Warnings: **Nothing really for this chapter. It will get more adult later.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Tensity**

She could see bright traces of dawn beginning to rise over the mountains. The low-hanging, pinkish clouds looked like smears of cake icing on the pale blue sky. She raised her hand to comb through her hair and felt twigs and leaves. She pulled one free and and held it too face to examine it, she could feel its waxy, veined texture beneath her fingers; smell its bright, earthy scent...

Hermione was returning to consciousness just as she was about to see what she was holding. She could still feel the foggy traces of her dream stuck in her mind as she grew aware of her waking state. She gradually grew cognizant of the pounding in her head and stiffness of her muscles. Her legs especially felt like they were made of wood; unyieldingly stiff and aching.

Shifting around on the lumpy surface on which she lay, trying to will the ache from her limbs, Hermione opened her eyes. They were gritty with sleep and felt horribly dry. The light she was greeted with was not kind to her; it acted very much like a sudden spotlight, blinding her senseless and increasing her headache tenfold.

Squinting, groaning, generally miserable, Hermione struggled to sit up. Feeling dizzy, she tried focusing on her hands and the unfamiliar blanket which they clutched. What was this? Confused, Hermione looked around. Nothing was familiar, from the threadbare couch to the faded curtains in an ugly shade of mustard yellow. What the hell?, her mind wondered. She had been dreaming a moment ago, perhaps she still was?

Foggily, Hermione swung her feet onto the floor and looking down at herself discovered that she was still wearing one of Ginny's tops. With a horrible rush of nausea and a distinct increase of the pain in her head, Hermione recalled the previous night. The drunkenness, the shame, the ill-advised walk home. And Snape. And the fact that _she was still in Snape's flat._

With a flash of panic, Hermione stood, the scratchy wool blanket that had been pooled in her lap falling to the floor. She looked around wildly for any sign of her saturnine professor. But she appeared to be alone. The flat was totally silent, save for the forlorn sound of the radiator humming.

Everything was very neat (save for the couch which she had slept on) despite being old-fashioned or battered looking. Her coat was hanging on a hook by the door, though Snape's own black trench-coat was no where in sight. Her shoes, slightly more worn looking than when she had previously seen them, had been placed neatly beside the couch.

It struck her as obscenely strange that Snape, of all people, had removed her coat and shoes and left them to be found by her the next morning. Of course it was infinitely more bizarre that she had actually _slept_ where Snape _lived,_ but on close inspection Hermione decided that it was altogether too strange for her to even comprehend in her current state of mind, so she left it alone.

Head still spinning slightly, Hermione stretched, trying to ignore the scorching protest of her muscles. Feeling very odd and out of place, Hermione let out a very tentative, "Hello?" just to be certain, but there was no answering response. Her clothes, which had been damp when she passed out, now smelled musty and stuck unpleasantly to her skin. With great dread to touched a hand to her head and found exactly what she had been expecting: a tangled rat's nest.

"Well at least no one's here to see this" she thought to herself with small relief but realized a moment later that nothing at all could alleviate her embarrassment from the night before. Almost all her classmates had seen her make a total fool of herself, twice in one day! And then she had gone asking help from Snape? She had passed out on his couch! In Ginny's slutty clothes! Hermione collapsed on the couch again, sick with shame. How could she go to school on Monday? Everyone who hadn't gone to the party must have heard about her public humiliation, she was certain of it. Maybe she could just hide in her room forever and die alone. Classes, grades, University? Sod it, she'd be a hermit for the rest of her life.

How depressingly melodramatic, she thought with a sigh. Before she could plot her antisocial future she had to get home first and with Snape nowhere in sight, how would she accomplish that? With nothing else to do, she simply put on her shoes and gathered her coat. Feeling something hard in one of pockets Hermione suddenly remembered her mobile. She fished it out and saw it was on vibrate. Of course it was. Why would life be easy for her?

Flipping it open Hermione registered with shock that it was three in the afternoon and that she had 56 voicemails and 23 text messages from Ginny. She listened and read through them idly. They were more or less what she expected: Ginny wondering where she was, hearing reports of her acting strangely, her messages slowly becoming more and more panicked as they went on. They were no messages from her parents, they thought she was staying over at Ginny's. They'd be expecting her home soon, however. She had chores to do, homework to get started on; they never wanted her away from home for more than a day when there was work to do.

She couldn't call them. It would be impossible to explain how she ended up at her adult teacher's flat. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the very thought of them knowing. Well, Snape was bound to come home eventually, he couldn't be gone forever. As shameful as it would be to face him, it was her only option that made sense. Hermione toyed briefly with the idea of calling Ginny, telling her she was alright, but the thought of Snape coming home while she was talking to her was not appealing. For some reason it made her nervous. What if he caught her saying something embarrassing, about last night, about him, about anything? She'd just wait until she got home and felt more secure.

In the mean time, she really needed to use the loo. It was located easily enough, the flat wasn't large, and was just as orderly and spare as the rest of the place. Her reflection in the chipped mirror was a unpleasant sight. She washed her face and ran a hand through her hair, trying and failing to tame those unruly curls. There was nasty taste in her mouth so she rubbed some toothpaste on her teeth and gurgled a few times.

Feeling mildly better, Hermione wondered whether she could risk eating something. Once the nausea went away she found herself to be achingly hungry. But she didn't feel comfortable enough to go rooting through Snape's kitchen uninvited. While he wouldn't miss a smudge of toothpaste he'd certainly notice if his food had been tampered with or eaten. As she was very thirsty, Hermione took a few gulps of water from the faucet, using her cupped hand. Although she desperately longed for a shower or at least a change of clothes, Hermione settled for sitting on the couch and doing nothing, for she had little other choice.

Her mind was drifting hazily from topic to topic, never really settling, growing less aware of her surroundings, when the door clicked opened, startling Hermione so badly that she jumped and let out a little squeak. She whipped around to see Snape, of course, standing on the threshold, a brown paper bag in his arms.

"Hi," she muttered sheepishly, burning with embarrassment. Even more humiliating, Hermione thought she saw the trace of smirk on his pallid face but it was gone before she knew it.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," Snape remarked, shutting the door and setting the bag, presumably groceries, on the counter. "Did you sleep well?"

"No," she admitted, and quickly cut to the chase. "Could you bring me home, please?"

Snape began unloading his shopping but didn't answer.

"You said you would, didn't you?" Though she wasn't entirely sure this was true, as her memory was a bit hazy, Hermione thought she remembered him saying that.

He definitely smirked this time. "Aren't you hungry?"

Hermione stared at him in utter shock. Did he seem... cheerful? The concept was almost too bizarre to comprehend. Why was he offering her food? Why wasn't he pushing her out the door in a mad rush, making brusque comments about her moral character?

When Hermione didn't answer and merely continued to stare opened mouthed, he started talking again.

"I supposed you would be starving. I don't... cook, per se, but there is cereal." And thus, he presented a box of cornflakes.

Still finding herself unable to speak, Hermione simply nodded to went to to sit at the table. He poured her a bowl and offered her milk, which she accepted. But when he went to hand her a spoon, something very odd happened. Their fingers touched, just for a moment and Hermione, inexplicably, blushed and looked down. Snape too, quickly pulled his hand away, looking uncomfortable. Hermione suddenly felt very aware of her low cut shirt, but had no way of covering herself without being obvious. She chewed solemnly on her cornflakes, feeling very strange.

"Aren't you going to have anything?" she asked presently. The silence had gotten thick and rather deafening.

"It's nearly four in the afternoon. And I've already had lunch." And there was that smirk again.

Not all used to Snape being pleasant, Hermione chuckled nervously.

"Goodness, I'd forgotten it was so late. My parents will be expecting me soon."

Snape looked at her, hard, that familiar drilling expression he used in the classroom.

"You haven't called them? Informed them you are not dead in a ditch or some such?"

"They think I'm at Ginny's house."

"I see." A tenuous pause. "And where, pray tell, does Miss Weasley think you are?"

Feeling scrutinized, Hermione become very involved with scooping up every sodden fleck of cereal at the bowl's bottom. "I'm... not sure."

Snape's face darkened. "Don't you think if you were with her last night, which I assume you were, she'd be wondering where you are now? And quite worried at that, judging by your state last night?"

There it was. He hadn't directly mentioned her "state last night" until now. Annoyed at being interrogated like this, Hermione quite unwisely lashed out.

"And why, _pray tell, _do you care? I thought you hated Ginny. I thought you hated everybody!"

Snape's face twisted sourly into a very familiar expression of rage.

"I was merely divining whether the people who _care about you _have any bloody idea where the hell you are! Did it ever enter your juvenile mind that, perhaps, other people exist? And that those people, occasionally, would like to make certain that their friends and family are not being raped and murdered at drunken parties? Is self-centeredness a personality trait or are you merely having a bad month?"

During this tirade, his voice rising steadily, Hermione fought to stay calm. It was difficult though, his sarcasm was cutting and she was on edge as it was. As his lecture drew to a close, Snape gesturing angrily in her direction, Hermione lost the battle with her emotions, and with preemptive humiliation, burst into tears.

Snape instantly fell silent. Hermione covered her face with her hands, trying to get a hold of her self. Despite the well-known fact that Snape had made countless students shed tears (mostly freshmen and Neville Longbottom) he had never managed to do so with Hermione Granger, who remained remarkably composed in the classroom. Now, however, she had completely lost it and it was clear he had no idea what to do. This wasn't a classroom after all, and while she was still a student, he couldn't exactly treat her like one now by sending her indifferently out the door. So he just sat there, annoyed, until she was finished.

Her embarrassment knowing no bounds, Hermione finally regained composure. Sniffling and wiping her face with a napkin, she said softly, "So sorry... I don't know what... well, it's been a difficult few days, and..."

"It's all right," Snape replied stiffly, not really looking at her. "I shouldn't have gotten angry like that. As I said last night... it won't help any." Brusquely, he gathered her empty bowl and spoon and set them in the sink. "Now, I think, I will bring you home."

Still quite mortified, Hermione shrugged on her coat. "I suppose I should thank you. For helping me again. And... not telling my parents."

"Consider yourself in my debt."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know yet"

An awkward silence permeated the room. Hermione didn't know what to say to that.

"Shall we go?" asked Snape, pocketing his car keys.

Hermione nodded, and followed him out the door.

* * *

**R/R**


	9. Don't Say a Word

**_A/N: _**_Another chapter! I'm on a roll! Hope you guys like it, but be warned, its rather disturbing._

**WARNING: **_Strong sexual content in this chapter, slight non-con_.

_**Disclaimer: **This is for entertainment only, no copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 8: Don't Say a Word**

Upon returning home it was very easy for Hermione to pretend she'd been with Ginny all night.

"What did you girls do?" her mother asked, folding laundry.

"Oh, nothing really. Just watched some movies, nothing exciting." Hermione said casually with a shrug.

"Well that sounds nice, dear." said her mother, clearly not paying very close attention.

Relieved, Hermione ran upstairs and jumped in the shower. It felt wonderful to wash away the unclean feeling from her skin. She managed to tame her hair for the time being with some product and finally brushed her teeth. She was very thorough, as the child of two dentists should be, and flossed carefully too.

After emerging from the bathroom feeling gloriously clean, Hermione decided it was probably a good idea to call Ginny. When she tried, however, she only got her voicemail. Hermione left a message, saying she just fine and not to worry and all that.

Still feeling under the weather, Hermione put some music on and lay down with one of her text books, fully intending to study. Her mind, however, had other ideas. It kept drifting away from the words on the page, affixing on confusing little details from the morning and night before. Like how Snape had carried her up the stairs when she was too drunk to walk. And how his bare hand had wrapped around her leg. How bizarre that she was dwelling on this! Recalling the memory of him touching her skin made her blush furiously even in the privacy of solitude. It also made the skin around her knee tingle oddly. Although it was a distinctly nervous feeling, it wasn't an altogether bad one. Remembering the feel of Sirius touching her made her feel sick, even now, but somehow Snape was a different matter. That made it even stranger.

So lost in her mental ponderings Hermione had become that the sound of her mobile ringing gave her quite a shock. She had turned it off vibrate earlier in case Ginny called back, and it was her red-haired friend whom Hermione expected to be calling her. So she was rather surprised to see it was Harry.

The Trio, as they had often been referred to, had regrettably drifted apart a little. When they had been younger they were virtually inseparable, but their awkward climb into young adulthood had changed that. Over time, Harry had become closer with his best male friend, Ron, while Hermione grew closer with Ginny. The fact that Hermione and Ron had started dating probably factored into it as well.

Now Harry was calling her. She was still rather ticked at him for taking Ron's side, but he was still her friend and was curious as to what he had to say.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Hermione." His tone was rather dodgey, he was obviously nervous about calling her. Or had he somehow heard about last night?

"What're you... ah... how are you?" he continued.

"Fine." An awkward pause.

"Listen, Hermione, I'm really sorry about the other day," Harry blurted out in a rushed breath. "I should have been more supportive. Ron really hurt you and... well, I know how that feels. Ron's my best mate, but you are too, I mean my best girl mate... or I dunno... what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry, please forgive me?"

Hermione listened calmly as Harry rambled on, feeling more content than she had in a long time. She had missed him.

"It's alright, Harry, take a breath. I understand why you took his side, even if you're still a pillock for doing it. And I forgive you. Because you apologized." She grinned into the phone as Harry let out a relieved sigh.

"Good, my god, I was worried we'd have one of those rows where we don't talk for months. So, um, how are you?" he said his tone immediately filled with concern.

Hermione pondered her response.

"Good question," she finally said. "I'm... good in some ways and not so good in others. The short answer being; I'll be fine."

"Okay... good." Harry said, not sounding truly convinced. "So, what're you up to?"

"Studying," Hermione said, glancing at her text book and all the unstudied paragraphs.

"Studying? Hermione, it's Saturday."

"Well, you know me."

"Yup," he said, clearly grinning. "Why don't you take a break and hang out with me and Sirius?"

Hermione felt her heart drop like a stone. She opened her mouth to decline, but something about Harry's cheerfully hopeful voice made her reconsider.

"Well... I should ask mum, first. She might have chores for me." That, at least was true.

"Okay," he said brightly. "Call me back when you know."

"Sure," she answered, trying to keep the dread from her voice.

Hermione considered her options. She could always lie and say her parents forbid her to leave. And sit at home, pretending to study all night? That option wasn't especially appealing. And Harry sounded so excited to forge new bonds in their friendship, make up for what had happened. Besides, she'd have to face Sirius sometime, she couldn't hide forever. The more she avoided him the more obvious it would be that she had a problem with him, and then what? Explaining what happened would cause all kinds of turmoil. Harry probably wouldn't believe her and Ron wouldn't either. Ginny would probably tell her it wasn't a big deal. And it wasn't... really. What would she say? He tried to kiss her? Huge crime there. Sirius had had a hard life, anyway. What business did she have making things worse for him?

In the end, Hermione decided she'd go see them. She could strengthen her relationship with Harry and get over her awkwardness with Sirius, all in one day. Trying to feel cheered, Hermione slipped off the bed to go ask her parents. But she wasn't really fooled. She still felt nauseous.

&&&

Unfortunately, Hermione's mother wanted her to vacuum the living room before going out.

"I want you to do more chores tomorrow too, sweetie," said her mother when she was done. "And don't forget, you have an essay due next week. I hoped you've worked on it." She tapped the homework chart pinned to the wall for emphasis.

The homework chart had initially been Hermione's idea, so she would be more organized. It was very unfortunate that her parents had caught on and now loved to badger her with it.

"I have, mum." said Hermione, which was partially true. She had made the outline, which was a start. The problem being that she'd usually have it finished by now.

When Harry came to pick her up, he was driving his cousin's Lexus again. Hermione smirked as she slid onto the heated leather seats.

"Harry, maybe you should get your own car."

"Yeah, I will when the Dursley's want to pay for it," he said sourly. "Besides, I just scare Dudley with my ex-con godfather and he lets me borrow it, so I'm covered."

"That can't work forever," she said seriously. "I've been saving money from babysitting and filing things at my parent's practice. I could get my own car soon."

"You get paid for filing things?"

"It's really boring."

"Well maybe I could do it."

His tone was light, but Hermione felt unsure. Harry's greatest ambition was to play football all the time, and while he was quite good, in fact really good, Hermione doubted he had any sort of backup plan. What would he do if it didn't work out?

By the time they arrived at Sirius's flat, Hermione was quite anxious. How would she act normal around him?

"Why is it always Sirius's place anyway?" Hermione asked, irritated, as they stepped into the bitter cold.

"Where else would we go? My place? Yours? I'm sure your parents or the Dursley's wouldn't mind if we smoked a bowl. What's your problem, anyway?" He gave her an odd look, as though trying to read her mind.

"Nothing," she muttered, brushing it off, feeling foolish. That was exactly how she told herself she wouldn't act. "So, what's Ginny up to?" she asked, steering the conversation in a different direction as they began to climb the stairs.

Harry shrugged. "Sleeping, I think. I called, to apologize and stuff. Ron said she came own really late last night." He suddenly eyed Hermione, as though recalling something. "That reminds me. She said you two were having your own fun, what'd you guys do last night?"

Hermione briefly considered lying.

"We... went to a party," she said evasively.

"A party? Where?"

Damn.

"Malfoy's."

Harry actually stopped dead and gaped at her. "You went to Malfoy's party? Why the bleeding hell would you do that?"

"It was Ginny's idea! Lots of people were there anyway, not just Malfoy's snobby clique."

"Did you have fun at least?"

"To be perfectly honest, no."

"Why's that?"

Hermione breathed deeply, preparing herself for the humiliation of explaining what had happened.

"I got really smashed and made a fool out of myself."

Harry looked at her sideways. "You? Got smashed? Hermione Granger?"

"I wasn't feeling my best," she mumbled, scuffing her shoes against the step.

Harry looked sympathetic. "That, I can understand. After me and Cho split, I really just wanted to get completely fried, take a little holiday from reality."

"Yeah but then you found Ginny."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Yeah... well..."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You better not hurt her, you know, I could seriously wound you."

"Really? Maybe give me some sexy battle scars? Impress her a little?"

Hermione laughed. "Sure, Harry."

They had reached Sirius's door. Harry just walked right in, Hermione following apprehensively. Sirius was lounging on the couch, an overflowing ashtray propped on his knee as he smoked. Several empty liquor bottles surrounded him.

His face lit up when he saw the two enter. He immediately leaped to his feet (spilling the ashtray on the spotty rug) and went to greet them.

"Harry, my boy!" he exclaimed, slapping him on the back companionably. "Hermione, love, it's been awhile." And to Hermione's horror, he went to hug her. Completely caught off guard, Hermione could only stand there and allow him to engulf her in a smothering bear hug. She was blushing uncontrollably, her head spinning a little, when he broke away. Hermione fought to stay calm. Sirius was always hugging people. She shouldn't act flustered, it was awfully suspicious.

"So, what do you feel like doing?" Harry asked, pulling off his coat. He didn't seem to notice anything amiss. Although, Harry could be rather dense sometimes.

"I dunno, you kids hungry?" Sirius said, moving to the kitchenette.

"Yeah, starving," said Harry. "Do you have beer?"

"When do I not? Help yourself."

Harry went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle. "Hermione, you want one?"

"I'm all set."

"Right, your probably still hungover."

"What's this?" Sirius said, perking up.

Harry told Sirius how Hermione had gotten severely intoxicated, but left out how she made such a fool of herself. Hermione burned with embarrassment the whole time. Harry really was dense.

Sirius just laughed and rubbed her on the back, making her tense up.

"That's my girl!" he said jocularly and began making food for them all.

Getting stuffed on Sirius's roast beef sandwiches and watching television wasn't the most wildly entertaining thing Hermione could think of, and she wasn't feeling especially comfortable. After three beers, Harry pulled out his cigarette paper and bag of weed and started rolling a joint.

"Harry," Hermione groaned. "Seriously?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, puffing contently.

"It seems like that's all you ever do."

"You can have some," he said, offering her the joint.

"No thanks," she said, annoyed.

"Could I take you up on that offer?" said Sirius, excitedly.

Extremely irritated, Hermione just sat there and watched them pass the joint between them for a quarter of an hour. Although it was still early, Hermione was feeling very sleepy. She hadn't exactly gotten a very restful night's sleep, after all.

"The fumes getting to you, love?" Sirius said, grinning between puffs of smoke.

Hermione didn't answer, falling further into the lumpy pillows. If her companions were just going to get stoned, why not take a little cat nap? She snuggled into the comfy couch and close her eyes. It didn't take long to drift away, the sound of the television soft in the background.

&&&

Hermione could feel the tingling in her leg again, like when Snape touched her there. It was stronger though, intensified tenfold and spreading. His hand was there again, and he was holding her like before. It traveled over the back of her thigh, sliding higher and higher, Hermione was close to passing out from the extreme sensation...

... but she already was passed out, she was still sleeping. Her body felt warm and heavy, but her skin was dancing with electricity. Suddenly she was aware that it wasn't an imagined hand on her leg, but a real one, moving over the top of her thigh to her hip to across her midriff.

Hermione jumped, horribly startled. But she couldn't move, there was an arm around her middle, clamping her arms to her sides. The other arm was wrapped around her too, gently stroking her belly.

Still caught up in the heaviness of sleep, it was difficult to get her bearings. She let out a squeak and tried to get her arms free, but the grip tightened.

"Shhh, love," Sirius whispered in her ear. He had somehow gotten her in his lap. His breath reeked of alcohol and smoke, the proximity to her sent horrible shivers down her spine.

"Stop, let go of me!" she said as she struggled. Where the hell was Harry?

"You should stop flirting with me, blushing like that when I hug you, it gets my blood going..." and his hand moved toward the waistband of her slacks.

Hermione flinched violently trying to throw him off, but he was much stronger than her and had a death grip around her arms. She thought they'd probably bruise.

"Don't worry, it'll feel good, honey," he murmured, his fingers wriggling under the fabric.

Hermione was seized with a violent shaking and was covered in hot sweat. Although her insides with squirming in horror, her body still felt tingly and warm from the aftereffects of her dream, and the feel of fingers roaming around under clothes only intensified those feelings. It was a horrible clashing of a nice warm feeling with fear and sickness.

Hermione felt light-headed. His fingers were in her knickers. She tried to yell, but her voice was weak and trembly. The feeling was sharp and hot, like a knife. He pressed too hard, too roughly, and it felt like ripping, like fire. He made an ugly grunted noise against her neck. Hermione thought she might faint. All the pleasant feeling had gone away and she was only sick with terror.

Then, without much warning, his grip loosened. Hermione struggled away, her limbs feeling like jelly. Sirius was slumped on the couch, his fly unbuttoned, his eyes half-closed and drunk looking. Hermione was trembling violently. Sirius seemed totally unresponsive, like he had passed out. Harry was no where in sight.

Still shaking and feeling physically ill, Hermione grabbed her coat and left. She slipped down the stairway, not knowing what to do or where to go. She felt rather delirious, unsure of what had just happened. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she ran into Harry on the stairs.

"Hermione, whatcha doing? I was getting snacks at the corner store while you guys slept. You two really passed out." He grinned slyly, holding up a bag of crisps.

Hermione fought hard from vomiting.

"I'm really not feeling well, Harry, could you bring me home?"

Harry's brow furrowed in concern. "This early? What about Sirius?"

Hermione swayed forward, a fresh wave of nausea taking her.

Harry caught her before she fell face first down the stairs.

"Woah, you really don't look so good, come on."

With an arm around her, Harry led her to the Lexus. Hermione curled up in her seat, wanting to die. She couldn't even think about what had just happened, it made her head pound and insides clench horribly.

When she was home, wrapped in her covers, feeling like she had the flu, Hermione cried quietly. She had enjoyed it. He had forced his fingers on her and she had enjoyed it. She hated herself.

* * *

**R/R**

**A/N: **_As an aside, I just want to say that Hermione's views on the matter are not my own. Its just how she sees it now, she's very hurt and confused. Just because she enjoyed it slightly doesn't mean she was asking for it or deserved it. Many times an abuser will use the body's natural reaction to manipulate their victim. Hermione is the victim here!_


	10. Melancholy

_**A/N: **Back again. I really need to give thanks to all my reviewers, you have no idea what it means to me to get reviews, they really lift my spirits and give me the drive to keep writing! So thank you all, so much! I should also apologize to you all for the long stretches of time between updates, I know it sucks, but I don't have the time or inspiration to write regularly. It gets done though, and I won't leave this story unfinished._

_**Standard Disclaimers, you know the drill. Warning for language.**  
_

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Melancholy**

Three o'clock Monday afternoon found Hermione sitting in her living room watching a thoroughly inane television program about celebrity breakups. She wasn't paying much attention, it wasn't interesting or intriguing and made her brain feel like mush, but that was really the point. If her mind was preoccupied with pointless drivel, she couldn't think about anything else.

Hermione hadn't gone to school that day, not feeling at all up to it. It hadn't been difficult to convince her parents she was sick, as she certainly felt that way. She had never lied about being sick to skip school before, so they had no reason to be suspicious.

Sunday had been spent in the mindless blur. She did all the chores her parents required of her and even worked on her paper and studied. Throughout it all, however, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out. That, she knew very well, would get her nowhere. So she worked through everything like a zombie, feeling numb. Her mother had noticed something wrong of course and inquired about her health. Hermione saw it as the perfect opportunity to possibly not go to school the next day. While going through the motions worked just fine while she had only the company of her parents, going to school and having to face everyone at the party combined with Snape and Harry and Ron seemed a feat far too difficult to confront.

So she went to bed early with a bowl of soup and her mother's comforting love and couldn't help but cry a little. She couldn't imagine telling anyone what had happened with Sirius, the shame was too great. But the way her mother kissed her goodnight, like she was still a child, and told her everything was going to be alright made her ache. She so badly wanted everything to be alright that it hurt to know it never would be.

All day she did lazy, unproductive things, all the while training her mind not to think about what had happened and closing herself off from the pain. It was the only possible way Hermione could imagine going to school the next day and acting normal. How she longed to be her old self.

Ginny called her mobile around lunch, clearly worried, but Hermione didn't pick up. Ginny would want to know what had happened over the past few days and Hermione had no idea what to say.

The program ended and another began, also about the love lives of movie stars. Hermione stared numbly at the screen, wondering why on earth anyone would care so much. The sound of the doorbell was jarring.

Her parents wouldn't be home from work for hours, Hermione was alone in the house. She considered letting the visitor stand there until they got fed up and left but the sound of the bell proved too annoying to be ignored.

Ginny stood on the walkway, a book bag hanging off her shoulder, shivering in the cold.

"It's bloody freezing, let me in," she said by way of greeting.

Hermione stood aside mutely to let Ginny brush past. The other girl dumped her bag on the threshold and unwound her scarf, her cheeks glowing brightly from the chill.

"Let's sit down," Ginny said brusquely and marched into the living room like she had lived there for years. Hermione followed, feeling odd in her bathrobe. She sat down in an armchair while Ginny took the couch. Ginny was looking at her with such a scrutinizing glare it was rather unsettling.

"_Well?" _Ginny said, her tone ripe with meaning.

"Well what?" Hermione shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, a fierce expression in her eyes. Hermione tensed involuntarily; she could feel one of Ginny's infamous lectures coming on.

Seeing her reaction, however, seemed to change Ginny's mind. Her face softened and her shoulders slumped, as if in defeat.

"What's going on, Hermione?" It was said with such earnest concern that Hermione felt her heart break a little. But she was resigned to keeping her emotions in check, so she bit back her tears and searched for a fitting answer. It was difficult to find.

"Nothing horrible," she finally said, trying to sound sincere. Ginny didn't look convinced.

"You stayed home from school, Hermione. You never miss school."

"Maybe I'm actually sick."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Really? What about that time you had the flu and still came to school? And since you're not bent over, spilling your guts right now, I'm not inclined to believe you."

Hermione picked at a loose thread on her bathrobe. "Perhaps it's not a physical illness." It was the truth, but she didn't have to explain, not really.

Ginny looked rather scared and Hermione felt a stab guilt.

"It's not anything to worry about," she said adamantly. "It's... a lot of things. It's Ron breaking up with me, it's Lavender, it's the party..." She rubbed her face, feeling overwhelmed.

Ginny came over and slid into the chair beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder.

"I understand, I just... didn't expect you break down so much. Hermione never breaks down. She always gets back up again."

With her face still hidden by her hands, Hermione felt a deep affection rising in her chest. But it was quickly followed by intense guilt. People expected her to be strong and successful. And she was failing.

Hermione recovered quickly, straightening up and smoothing her hair, just to be doing something with her hands.

"I'll be fine. Really." She gave Ginny her Best Actress Smile and put real emotion behind it. "I'm very, very lucky to have you as a friend, Ginny."

Ginny smiled widely and through her arms around her. "I love you too, Hermione!"

Hermione laughed a little, at the other girl's enthusiasm.

"Okay, tell me about school or something, something cheerful."

Ginny tapped her cheek in deep thought.

"Oh, I know! In lab today, Snape completely lost his shit."

Totally thrown by Snape's sudden inclusion in the conversation, Hermione gapped at her.

"Wait, what? What happened?"

"It was just a regular class, Snape being tetchy and all, and then Zacharias Smith (total tool, by the way) broke, like, three beakers and Snape threw a fit! It was scary actually, he was raving like a lunatic. Afterwards, Smith was practically traumatized and Snape didn't teach another class for the whole day! Can you believe that?"

Hermione listened in a almost daze.

"Wow," was all she could muster.

"Yeah, I guess he's finally loosing it. He should just retire."

"He's only 39, I don't think it's allowed."

"Then he should get a job change, one where he doesn't have any contact with human beings."

Hermione sighed. It was a big joke to everyone, how mean and hateful Snape was, and Hermione had laughed about it before. But now, after seeing where he lived, how charitable he'd been toward her, it was hard to think of him as the enemy, or an object of ridicule. He was rather sad, wasn't he? Living alone, no real friends to speak of. It depressed her to think about it.

"What's up," came Ginny's voice. "You got all quiet."

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Tell about me about something else."

* * *

**R/R**


	11. Touch

**Chapter 10 - Touch**

It was a lot easier than expected to return to school the next day. Of course, the rumors were flying about Hermione's actions at the Malfoy party. All she could do was shrug them off. Honestly, it was a lot worse all those years ago when everyone was convinced her and Harry were dating.

So she ignored the titters in class and whispers in the halls and concentrated as always on her schoolwork. Ron was no longer welcome to sit with Hermione and Ginny at lunch, so he had found a place at Lavender's table. He looked thoroughly miserable, squeezed between Lavender and Parvati, the two girls giggling madly. That, at least, cheered Hermione's spirits, just a little.

Harry was loyally sticking with Hermione and Ginny, but since he was now officially dating the redhead, it wasn't much of a surprise. Cho would throw them sour looks in the hallways, which Hermione thought was rather silly. It had been Cho who broke up with Harry in the first place, why was she so self-righteous all of a sudden?

But the minutiae of everyday life was just a placeholder for what was really filling up Hermione's mind. Try as she might, it was impossible just to forget what had happened. She would find herself getting unexplainably anxious during the day and couldn't shake it off. Whenever someone touched her unexpectedly she would jump, and would feel tense and uncomfortably for long afterwards. Those around her were confused by her change in behavior, but didn't question it. Hermione suspected that Ginny had told them not to.

Thursday afternoon found her alone in the library. Her history paper was due the next day, and while she had finished it, for the most part, there were still a few details she wanted to fix. It was several pages longer than was asked for, but that wasn't new for Hermione. Being able to throw herself into schoolwork was a welcome relief, after all.

But even as she read threw it a fourth time, that wasn't much else she wanted to fix. Professor Binns wasn't even a demanding teacher, being so old as to be practically dead, but Hermione was desperate to occupy her mind. Finally, at around 3:30, Hermione decided there was nothing else to be done.

Home was a half-hour walk; not very trying, but in the cold wasn't too fun. Her mother might pick her up, but who knows when that would be. Hermione had expected to spend longer doing her work. Now she was at a bit of a loss.

The school was quite empty at this hour, and very quiet. Hermione made her way down the halls thinking vaguely that she'd see how chilly it was and then decide whether walking was a good idea or not.

She walked passed a door that was slightly ajar and peeked inside curiously. It was Snape's office. And there was Snape, sitting inside. With a flare of panic, Hermione darted away. Of course it was Snape's office. She _knew_ it was there even, what was wrong with her? Then she heard his voice.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione froze, not knowing what to do. She felt anxious, but it was a different kind of anxiety. One that made her knees a little weak, not one that made her sick with terror. On that thought, she spun around and walked purposefully in the door without an invitation. Snape looked a little startled, but not angry. Hermione sat down in the chair across from his.

He examined her curiously. His gaze was so intense, Hermione couldn't hold it and looked down.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" His tone was biting, but Hermione expected that. Being nice was very natural for him.

"Well, we should talk, don't you think?" She tried to sound strong and authoritative, like she had planned this. But honestly, she had tried to think about Snape as little as possible.

"Talk about what," he countered. Snape sounded challenging, but not exactly threatening. Hermione forced herself to look him in the eye, but it was difficult. She tried very hard not blush.

"You made it quite clear that I'm in your debt. I'd... I'd like to know what that means. For me." The fumble of her words was embarrassing, especially when he smirked like that.

"What do you think it means?" He wasn't smirking anymore but there was something suggestive about his tone that made a stab of fear rip into her gut. She must have gone pale, because Snape suddenly looked horrified.

"I... apologize. That sounded quite inappropriate. I did not mean... what I appeared to mean." He looked away, fidgeting with his pen.

Hermione felt calmer, somehow, maybe it was his nervousness.

"It's all right," she muttered. She bit her lip awkwardly and shifted in her chair.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Snape said after a pause.

"You helped me... when you didn't have to. I'm grateful for that."

Snape nodded shortly. She felt a sudden, inexplicable want to be closer to him. She recalled quite vividly the touch of his fingers against hers when he handed her the spoon and the electric feeling of her hand on her bare leg. She blushed so furiously it was impossible for him not to notice. Hermione looked down at her lap, where her hands twisted nervously. The exposed skin between her pleated skirt and knee socks felt very warm.

The tension in the room was nearly unbearable. Hermione felt as though something monumental was about to happen. Snape's jaw was clenched so tightly it trembled.

Hermione felt a surge of adrenalin and stood up. Why she came to do such a thing was beyond her, she hadn't thought about it, just acted. It hadn't seemed right, just sitting there, waiting for Snape to do something or say something.

Snape cleared his throat and looked intensely at his desk.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you should go."

"Why?" The question dropped from her lips before she could think about it.

He looked up at her, startled.

"This is an inappropriate conversation to be having in a classroom."

"Why?" This time it was faint, barely audible.

"Are you daft? Why do you think?" He was getting angry, she could tell, but Hermione didn't feel afraid.

He stood up, imposing his height. His gaze was thunderous but Hermione did her best to remain steady.

She moved closer to the desk. Snape froze.

His expression changed, it was challenging again. Hermione knew it was a game they were playing and even though she pretended, she did not know the rules.

Snape moved from around the desk and stood in front of her. He was so much taller than her that Hermione had to crane her neck a little to keep eye contact. He put a hand on her shoulder. Hermione tensed, not in fear but anticipation.

"You should go now, Miss Granger," he said sternly.

Hermione turned around slowly, as though to pick up her bag, but stopped. If she stepped backwards now, just a little, she'd be pressed up against him. The thought hung in her mind like a red flashing light but her body was frozen with inaction. Hermione felt him shift a little behind her and she reacted without thought.

She stepped back, almost a falling action and grabbed his arm as if for support. He caught her with his other arm, automatically it seemed, and they were frozen there. Hermione let out a breath, a small sigh. She could feel is heart beating wildly, discordant with her own frenzied rhythm.

The moment felt frozen in time: Snape's arm across her chest, gripping her shoulder; his body, solid and warm against her back; his breathing in her hair, warm on her scalp...

A door slammed someone, distantly, but it was enough to break the moment. They sprang apart and Hermione grabbed her bag off the floor. Lightheaded and wobbly, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eye. Feeling as thought it were her only option, Hermione darted out the door and sprinted down the hall.


End file.
